the clothes 2011

I just bought the new Teen Vogue and imagine my surprise when flipping through the pages I stumble across an Apple Bottoms ad featuring none other than America's Next Top Model hopeful and certifiably crazy person, Jade. To any ANTM fans Jade will live in infamy with her crazy speech, amazing over-confidence, and rather mean glares she gives the camera. Her final scene was also memorable, she walked off sing-song speaking--maybe it was some form of beat poetry, either way it was crazy. At least we know she isn't living on the streets and terrorizing others...
Note: this is not the actual ad I saw, but this is the only one with her I could find online. And I haven't watched the past few seasons of ANTM, so I don't know anything about the current competition.

We scurry from the German deli to our car and crank up the heat, an ice chocolate melting slowly away on our tongues. We drive through quaint towns already decorated and prepared to welcome Christmas. A Christmas tree, lit and sparkling shines through the windows of my favorite vintage store, but we won't be stopping to visit in there today. An old man sticks on his front porch in a lawn chair, watching the cars drive by. All the leaves have completely fallen from the trees and have been swept into large golden piles along the side of the road. A brisk wind comes through, lifting and carrying the leaves like the foamy crest on an ocean wave. The leaves seem to travel briefly with us down the road, riding alongside our pocket of warm air. The scent of woodsmoke fills the air and a few moments later a cozy brick house with a thin black trail of smoke puffing from its chimney is in eyesight. We drive on and leave the town behind for the open fields of the countryside. Bare open spaces stretch alongside the road, a thin line of trees forms a natural border, their elegant limbs marking the boundary lines. Through the dark outline of the branches the mountains rise purple and the sky pink, because the sun sets early now that it is winter.

The runway (Dolce and Gabbana):

The real way (Facehunter):

My way:

This video was taken a couple of weeks ago by my father. I was having a heated discussion with my sister, basically being a typical youngest child and complaining of hand-me-downs, to which she pointed out that I shopped in thrift stores. So here's the last few moments of the discussion on tape--notice the moment where I realize he caught my words in infamy.

Thanksgiving reminded me of Norman Rockwell's work. I love his illustrations and I feel that he is a beautiful artist with a great skill at capturing people. Illustrations are meant to tell a story and his images really do capture your heart and your mind with their depiction of everyday American classic lifestyle.

There was no Internet at my Grandmother's these past couple of days, but excellent lighting for pictures--in my humble opinion. I hope everyone had an excellent time gorgeing themselves on turkey.

My father told me this outfit made me look like a waif (which I am not entirely against taking as a compliment) but my grandmother thought I looked sweet. The lightning and colors in these photos remind me of a print ad featuring Jessica Stam.

Here are some random new outfits I put together last night--when I was supposed to be packing for Thanksgiving Break which officially starts today. Yay!

In other random news, Lady N tagged me to list seven random facts about myself. My immediate thought was--only seven?! I must admit there are many little "quirks" about me that make me different and odd. Here's seven of them:

I wanted high-waisted, so I made this skirt high-waisted.

I've never walked through a fog this thick before. So thick it is that I can feel the wet mistiness brushing, pressing against my cheeks. The mist turns street lights into faerie lanterns lit to lead hapless travelers astray and even to their doom as in the old tales. In the distance some unseen birds cuckoos as if to confirm this thought. Like Alice through the looking glass the path before and behind me disappears from sight--is it there a few steps in either direction, or erased forever? Could I walk straight on this seeming path, only seeing a few steps ahead and trusting that there are more? Trusting until I walk off some unforeseen edge into nothingness. Strangers footsteps followed by murmured words and laughter pass behind. I could be surrounded by a huge milling crowd or army of adversaries and think myself completely alone in this oppressive mist. A rabbit darts across my path making me jump like a skittish colt.
There--the stairs leading down to the parking lot in front of my dorm. I can hear cars moving as people depart and in a moment, a few more hesitant steps forward and I see their lights. The fog has progressed to even here and I push through the final part of the journey to my dorm, my temporary home. I am inside, a blast of warmth and light, a quick trot up the stairs and I am safe in my room. Was there anything in the mist to fear? Or am I paralleling the fog to my ambiguous future?

My recent eBay purchase of leopard print coat arrived in the mail today--inspiring a few very quick pictures all glamoured up. I smeared on some red lips and exaggerated the eye-liner for the pictures and slipped into something simple that wouldn't detract from the coat. I intend to rock this coat batty old-lady style too. (I'm actually wearing the green and yellow outfit I put together a couple posts down.)

Recent scribblings:

Last night:

I was sitting alone in my room, minding my own business and watching television, when my phone rang. After a few minutes of hunting and discovering my phone buried underneath my accounting book and pillow, I answered to the voice of my father commanding me to look out my window. A few short minutes later I was struggling into my trench coat (with phone plied to my ear) and ballet flats and running outside to experience the first snow of the season. Perhaps it wasn't that cold, or perhaps my jubilee at the sight kept me warm, but I didn't even shiver as I trotted around in my bare legs and ignored the looks of bemused peers as I snapped pictures of the snow with one hand and talked to my sister on the phone with the other (my father has since hung-up).
I had no problem living in Hawaii and not experiencing a white Christmas (aren't twinkle lights in palm trees just as lovely as candles on evergreens?), but even I must admit there is something magical about the first snow of a season. The sight of small white flower-like pieces of ice always manage to take one back to childhood.

In the photos I took, I like the way the snow is catching the light and the contrast with my favorite red bushes on campus. The leaves on these bushes turn a vibrant red every year, without fail. They are spectacularly bright and gaudy and the leaves they cast to the ground look more like a littering of rose petals than fall foliage.

The perfect shirt for taking pictures of things:
Oh, and please excuse the fact I am wearing no make-up and my hair is a bit crazy from being in a ponytail all day...I'm being low key and hiding in my room.